Perused by persistent images
Of obsessions, the thought takes a deadly form
And reality and fate rearranges,
All the mistakes in a horrifying dream.
Going through the gate, heaven can wait,
I gaze into space, and stay awake
Caught my soul in control of isolation,
Watching every step a minute make.
To take my place and make me surrender,
Become a number alongside the previous owners,
My life is mine, if only I could live a bit longer
with winners and not with losers.
No one should be allowed to take it away,
I can give another part of me freely,
That was given at birth until I reach eternity,
I will stay here on earth and enjoy my liberty.
When is eternity not an obsession with death?
Only God to whom I will surrender,
Death, where is your final breath?
And The sting is the grave that I will enter.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem